Morning Clear
by uebermensch
Summary: Sequel to "Rainfall". Henry and Eliza wake up together. In his bed. With their clothes still on. Kinda epic. Totes. COMPLETE, 3 chapters. This story is my 15th SelfieFic; there's more to come :-)
1. Blue Hour

**"MORNING CLEAR"**

Summary: Sequel to "Rainfall". Henry and Eliza wake up together. In his bed. With their clothes still on. Kinda epic. Totes.

I've written this piece to mark the 1-year broadcast anniversary of "Wishing Well", the 13th and final "Selfie" episode which aired 30 December 2014. This piece is my holiday present to the "Selfie" fanbase and especially to the readers who've stuck around to read my SelfieFic here on FFnet. These are Emily Kapnek's characters whom I'm borrowing for awhile.

* * *

Chapter 1 of 3 : BLUE HOUR

First sensations in the foggy shroud leading to consciousness can sometimes be a shock, especially if the dream you're having is holding time still in a warm embrace. Or if that embrace happens to involve your best friend, a woman more than a decade your junior, who speaks a version of English that is sometimes completely alien to you, but who makes you want to be the best person possible. Or sometimes, the mornings upon waking would haunt you the rest of your day because of the mistakes your subconscious managed to correct which you had let fester in real life. Or the unintended consequences your subconscious reached to your horror in the dreaming.

But this morning was going to be different.

Slowly, Henry opened his eyes, and it took him a moment to realize he was no longer sleeping in a strange bed in an unfamiliar environment somewhere north of the Bay Area. He recognized his bedroom; even the scents were familiar. He rolled over and he picked up on something else. No, not some Thing, but some One very familiar.

The sweet but not overpowering scent of Eliza Dooley.

Her eyes were closed. Her breathing was regular. She was sleeping, next to him in his bed.

He stayed the additional momentary panic when memories quickly resurfaced. His childhood friend had died of cancer, and he had returned from San Francisco after attending her funeral. He'd been away for two weeks with little by way of updates for Eliza. Last night, he struggled off the plane in Burbank, crawled into a taxi, and he returned home to find Eliza asleep in his bed. She had clearly been worried about him, and she had waited for him before she fell asleep. When she awoke to find him home, she showed him how much she missed him.

He could admit to himself that had been a big surprise and one of the best things to happen to him in some time. It'd been a simple gesture: direct and effective, dramatic yet sweet. Just like Eliza.

He was close enough to see individual freckles on her cheeks, her nose, and the tiny wrinkles beneath her eyes. He had an overwhelming urge to lean down and kiss every single one of those freckles ...

He could stay and watch her breathe and watch her sleep. Admire her, yes. And okay, maybe a little creepy, too. But if he was never going to have another chance to lie next to a sleeping Eliza ever again, he was going to take the next few moments and burn this sight into memory.

Eventually, he became uncomfortable at this "silent stalking." He hadn't touched her at any point since becoming awake, but the sight of her filled him with a joy that someone about whom he cared was here with him. What became evident over these last few hours was Eliza's presence had soothed the recent pain and loss of his friend.

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, recentering and steeling himself. Slowly, he shuffled over to the side of the bed to avoid waking her. He propped his hands on the bed and began to rise.

A hand shot out from underneath and grabbed his wrist, stopping him in his tracks.

Startled, he looked down at her hand.

Her touch was insistent and affectionate; her hold gentle yet firm. Fingers squeezing slightly, her thumb caressing his skin. It had been a subconscious effort on her part, an automatic reaction to reach out to the person next to her in bed. Movement had alerted her to a presence, and she immediately remembered being in Henry's bed. That thought alone sent a warm vibe and made her want to bury deeper into the comforter: his comforter, his bed. She groaned as she slowly opened her eyes. Lying on her stomach with her head cradled between pillows, she gazed at him through the slits of her sleepy scratchy eyes, through the unruly forest of her red hair.

He ached at the sight, her pink-and-blue flannel pajamas peeking through from underneath the covers, even as he zoned in on her pale green eyes. The room bathed in warm intimacy, and this clear reality she was waking up in his bed was changing and rocking his world.

"Stay ..." Her voice was rough from a night's worth of sleep. Releasing his wrist, she turned to the opposite side of the bed, and retrieved her smartphone from the end table. "I'm not ready for you to be out of my sight. For the next hour, anyway ..."

"You aren't hungry? I could ..."

"Henry, please. Get back into bed with me."

He nodded, throwing her a wry grin. He knew when to quit when he was only a little behind, and he was happy to comply with her demand. He climbed wordlessly into the space next to her. Propping a couple of pillows by the headboard, he sat legs stretched and picked up the latest Patterson novel he'd gotten in San Francisco.

"You're all wrinkly ..."

"What?" He followed her gaze, looking down at his rumpled clothes. Exhaustion last night had led him directly to bed and sleep. He looked up at her and shrugged.

"You're kinda cute with this untidy rumpled look." Eliza moved into his space, the back of her head against his shoulder.

Henry read a number of pages over the next half-hour. Because her head was comfortably nestled against his right shoulder, he would lift the book above her head to maneuver his hand up and over to turn the page. Tired of the page-turning gymnastics, he set the novel down on the end table. He brought his arm around, encircling her, almost but not touching her. He watched and marveled at her social media updates. She realized he wasn't reading his novel any more and looked up to find him smiling at her.

"Don't stop on my account, Eliza. I want to watch you navigate those shark-infested waters."

"Are you sure? Won't you be totally bored?"

"No," he replied simply.

She shrugged when he didn't elaborate, and she returned to burning a hater. Even if she accepted the 'sacrifice' of including haters in her elevated follower counts, it didn't mean she had to put up with bullshit. Occasionally, he asked her what that tweet meant, and why that Instagram picture was getting all the likes. She would look up at him, wondering about his sudden interest, until she realized he was asking because it was important to her.

"I like this," she blurted, returning to look at her smartphone. He could tell from her body language, the slight twitch in her shoulders that she wanted to look at him, but didn't dare. "It's better than sex ... almost ..."

"Almost?"

"Yeah, almost ..."

"Sometimes, this kind of closeness can be very important, the little details of the everyday people share with each other."

A strange look came over her face, and she tried to recover. "Isn't this like lounging? See, we're lounging! N-B-D, am I right?"

He caught her troubled look. "Eliza, what's wrong?"

"I ... I've never had anything like this before ..." she replied in a small voice.

Henry was surprised. "Not even with Freddy?"

She adjusted her position to face him. "Are you sure you want to hear this?"

He wasn't sure, but he wanted to know. "Yes, I do."

"Liar," she replied gently, her soft gaze on his eyes.

"Look, I don't know exactly what's happening between us right now. But I think that what happens next, between the both of us, things are gonna change."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"What I mean is I don't wanna go back to what we were."

"Totes true. But back on point and I'm gonna ask again: are you sure you want to hear this?"

"No, I'm not sure. Yes, I want to hear it."

She nodded. "Freddy and I didn't really talk much, and when we weren't making out or ... you know ..."

"Yes, I get the picture ..."

"Okay, well ... we would both be on our phones, doing our own individual thing. Not once did we share what we were doing. So, even though I'm still mad deep in social media, I like it very much that you're interested ..."

"Interested might be an overstatement, Eliza."

She laughed. "I for sure know that's true! Still, adorbs and I like it when you ask."

"It's important to you."

"It is. For now."

"Oh? What do you think will happen if social media becomes less important to you?"

"I don't know. I'm sure I'll think of something. Or someone."

He blazed her with a full smile. "I'm sure that someone can wait. Until that day comes, of course."

She returned a toothsome smile. "Of course."

In an instant, Henry sided with bravery, the voices of skateboarders in his mind. "Truth told, I'm hoping that day comes soon, and that it'll be you and me."

What he would commit to memory was the beautiful face with which he had become very accustomed: head slightly dipped, wide-eyed, nostrils flaring, lips pursed.

 _Yup, there's a sight,_ he thought. _Eliza in stunned silence_.


	2. Daybreak

Chapter 2 of 3 : **DAYBREAK**

"Henry!" She turned away, unable to look at him. "We're friends; best friends. Maybe we shouldn't mess with that. Not right now ..."

 _... Because I don't think I could handle being rejected by you again_ , she thought.

 _... And you're afraid I'll turn you down again,_ he thought.

He reached over and put her phone aside, and covered her hands with his. "Eliza ..."

"Yeah ..."

"Eliza, please look at me."

Reluctantly, she turned to him.

"I see how my lack of communication with you has been a big issue. Not only these last couple of weeks, but how I've generally kept certain aspects of my life hidden from you. My trip to the Bay Area aside, I know I've been a little out of sorts recently, especially given how much time we've spent together and how I've begun texting a little more ..."

"Thanks to me ..."

He nodded, acknowledging her point. "Point bees, Eliza, I can understand if my actions left you feeling a little abandoned."

"A little ..."

"Shit," he muttered in self-admonishment. "Eliza, I promise to be more open with you."

"Are you giving yourself an assignment to work on?"

"Yes, I am. When we talk, when you ask, I'm going to try and tell you what I think and feel. I can't promise I won't think ...

"Overthink ..."

"... think through my thoughts and feelings. But I promise to give you more."

She nodded, a slight curve of her lips.

"It was one thing when we went through those lessons in the last 12 or so months, but you know as well as I do that it's no longer about 'lessons on social interaction'. You haven't needed them in some time. Guess when I look back, we spend a **lot** of time with each other."

"I can't believe I'm going to say this, but I kinda miss Professor Higgs."

He shook his head. "I don't. I know I can be sufferable and impatient. Not great qualities for a supposed Sensei."

"Yes. No."

"But perfect description for an elder ..."

She giggled. "Elder ..."

"All kidding aside, what are we waiting for? I realize how important you are to me: what we have between us, who we are to each other. I'm convinced it's really quite simple."

She blushed. "It's as simple as that, huh?"

"I think so, but you don't sound so sure."

"Maybe ..."

 _No, Eliza, I know you see it, too. It's why you said you loved me. But now, I'm going to help you see you were right about us all along._ "So, what do you think, Eliza?"

"No one has ever really asked me that before."

"Excuse me?"

"Nobody, no one I've ever gone out with, no one has ever asked me what I thought."

"What? Seriously?"

"I mean, Freddy and I, we sometimes talked about ... stuff. But we didn't get to talking about a lot of serious stuff. He once said I tended to freak out when things were starting to get serious between us. And that might've been true early on. But over time, I wanted to get more serious. And look what happened, he's the one who freaked and bailed. And he hooked up with some skank a week later. I'm still super salty about that."

Henry remembered it well. For two weeks, she'd been quiet and more serious at work, to the point people in the bullpen had noticed. She continued eating lunch with him in his office, but the conversations had either drifted between social media faux pas (expected) and his favourite books and movies (unexpected). One afternoon, Freddy brought his new girlfriend to work. Eliza turned the corner to come face to face with the new couple. She took one long look at the couple, and said a friendly hello to them both. She didn't party to deaden the pain or to overcome the loss. Instead, she split her off-work time solely between her apartment and his house. She didn't talk about it; he didn't ask. The unspoken truth was breaking up with Freddy had moved her closer to Henry.

"You have every reason to be. I never said this out loud, but I **am** sorry things didn't work out between you two."

"But?"

"But right now, I'm glad we're here. You're here."

"I am, too. In your bed, I might add."

"Yes, Eliza, but you know what I mean."

"I do. Looking back, Freddy and I, we didn't really talk about us, and all we had in common was relentless casual sex. It wasn't enough. But you ... you are one of the most important relationships I've had in my life."

"If I may, I'd like to amend an earlier statement."

"What do you mean?"

"I value our friendship more than my job; it's not a tie. You're more important." He recalled the conversation on the lawn at Saperstein's estate.

"Aha, knew it!"

"And if I'm being honest, I think I've always known."

"You do?"

"I had a good idea, yes. And I'm sorry I hurt you." There was no mistaking for what he was apologizing. There was no forgetting what would always be known and referred to as "karaoke night."

"And I'm sorry, too."

"I'm confused. I did you wrong. For what do you have to be sorry?"

"That I immediately went back to Freddy?"

"I understood. Maybe, I wasn't surprised. Maybe, I was even a little hurt, too, that you said you loved me and you went back to him. It was unpleasant, but I understood why."

"I still do, you know. I think I always have."

"I'm still confused, Eliza."

Eliza made a short huffing sound. "You're such a guy. And you can be aggravating and stuck up; a know-it-all and stick-in-the-mud. And sometimes you suck the joy out of life. Which totes legit, like I said last night, I'm sticking around to help fix that." At his discomfort, she cupped his face with her hands and softened her tone to emphasize the words to come. "Because, Henry, I still love you. And look, I'm stone cold sober."

Immensely touched by the enormity of her admission, he replied in a small voice. "Thank you, Eliza."

He pulled her into his embrace. Their arms around each other, they exhaled with sighs of relief. She laid her head against his chest, her hands bunched on his wrinkly shirt. She listened how his heart beat fast then slow, and marveled at how our own heartbeat began matching his. She closed her eyes with the feels as he held her tighter, and felt the kiss on the top of her head.

Henry broke the silence moments later. "Looking back, I think Saperstein saw something in us a long time ago."

"What'd he say?"

"He said I was more lifelike when you're around."

"You **are** a completely different person when I'm around: less boring, more Henry."

"Eliza, I'm convinced you worship me, too."

"I do **not** ..."

"Who's lying now?"

"Whaaa?! Stop saying things that are true!"

He laughed. They sat still for a few quiet minutes.

"Thank you, Henry."

"What for?"

"Thank you for being patient with me."

"You're worth the time and effort, Eliza."

"Right? Like L'Oreal, I'm totally worth it."

"You had to know I waited, until the time was right for us."

She adjusted her position, looking up at Henry. "You being away these two weeks finally pushed me over the line. Got me to thinking about what you really mean to me."

Henry gazed into her expressive face. Case in point, at this very moment: a wrinkling in the eyebrows, the little crease above her nose, her lips, the little smile, the dreamy or the razor-sharp expression in her beautiful eyes.

"I can also tell you decided something important just now, Eliza."

"Wait, what, how?"

"Your eyes narrow into a tight focus and your lips. It's what I call Eliza's 'thoughtful look with intention.'"

"Wow, we really do spend a lot of time with each other ..."

He nodded. "What did you decide?"

She pushed him onto the bed. Pinning him down with her hands, she hovered deliciously over his face and body.

"Uh, what are you doing?"

"I know you. And I know what I'm doing. Trust."

"Okayyy ..." Not that he really minded being pinned down by Eliza ...

"Not only do I love you, but I decided I want to be with you. For reals. And because I know you and because what's happened over the last couple of weeks, I'm def not letting you out of my sight. Moreover, I'm going to ask: do you want to be with me? I want an answer from you, and I'm not giving you 24 hours."

"Did you just say 'moreover'?"

"You know I did. Answer the question, Henry."

"Eliza, I don't need 24 hours."

"What's that supposed to mean?"


	3. Awake

Chapter 3 of 3 : **AWAKE**

"I don't need 24 hours, or an hour. In fact, I don't need another minute. Because here's my answer ..."

"Yes?" There was a noticeable tremor to her voice, shivers shooting up her body.

"I'm ready. Now. There's nobody else. You're what I need, you're the one I want." No sooner was his last word said, when he pushed one arm out of her grip. He pulled her into a passionate kiss, as he gently held the back of her head.

She pulled back moments later, their separation marked by a soft wet pop. "I want you to know, that it's enough, more than enough to know that you want me. The sex part? That's bonus, a cherry on top of our totally awesome Korean-Irish-Scottish-American sundae." Her luminous eyes were watery with the fee ... no ... emotions.

"You're not alone any more, Eliza." He held her by the waist, his hands slipping under her pajama top and burning into memory the feel of her skin, the shape of her curves.

"Neither are you, Henry." She gasped, aroused by his attention, her belly on fire in the wake of his finger tips. "There's more."

Henry stopped his movements. "More?"

"I still want relentless sex." She stared at his mouth, as she dragged her fingers to feel the shape of his lips.

He kissed her fingers and grinned. "Of course you do. I'll try to keep up."

"Straight up you will. Only difference now is: I want sex in a relaysh."

"Relaysh?"

"A relationship."

"Oohhhh. Clearly, I still have a lot to learn."

"Totes. And I know just the right person to teach you."

"Huh. I wonder who that could be ..."

They alternated between deep kissing and heavy exhalations, feeling the solid ground beneath them adjust to their new world status.

 _O-M-G, Henry is my boyfriend! That's so hella weird to roll around in my head. But it feels so very good._

"By the way, I found your journal ..." Eliza said playfully.

"You ..." Henry shuddered, but he bit the first thing that came to mind. Narrowing his eyes, he held his gaze on her and sensed a big bluff. "Eliza, you did **not** ..."

"J/K, Henry, J/K. But what if I did?" She asked, with amusement and challenge in her eyes.

"Well then, I guess you would know my secrets ..." He wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Daaaang ... I'm gonna look harder ..."

"I look forward to the challenge ..."

"Henry, I sure as hell am gonna try ..." She placed her hands on his shoulders.

Under their appreciative gaze, there was much unsaid in the serenity: eyes to lips; a finger from the lips, down to the chin and to the throat; a hand to palm the cheek; fingers to the little hairs at the back of the neck.

Henry heard a rumble from Eliza's stomach. "I think I should make you breakfast, Eliza ..."

"I think you should, too. But you have to understand something ..."

"Yes, Eliza?"

"I'm still a little pissed you didn't tell me where you were ..."

"You're going to milk this, aren't you?" He leaned forward into her face.

"Days, Henry; maybe even a couple of weeks ..." She licked her lips and moved closer by the unavoidable pull of their collective gravity.

"Woman's prerogative?" His breathing took on a ragged sound.

"Much better: the Doolio Prerogative ..." She gazed at her best friend and lover. She rolled the words around in her head: Yes. Henry. Best friend. Lover. Yes, she decided she liked those words very much. She liked him very much, too.

He brought his hands up to her arms, squeezing the skin below her shoulders, marveling at the soft feel of her skin. "I have a feeling I'm not going to learn about this very quickly at all. Is that about right?"

"Yes." She reached up to part an unruly strand of his hair from his forehead, trailing a finger down to caress his cheek, to marvel at his angular chin, then back up to his lips. "And I intend to make you learn about what it means, nice and slow."

"I look forward to every minute of it. And Eliza ..."

"Yeah?"

"You deserve the attention of someone who adores and respects you. I promise I will do my utmost best, as friends, as partners. I love you, Eliza." He leaned forward to seal his promise with a gentle brush against her mouth.

She was having none of that. She opened her mouth, forcing his open, seeking his tongue. _He loves me, his lips are super soft, his mouth tastes yummy, I'm gonna give him some vitamin V, and we've gotta get us some straaange ..."_

"Wait ..." she pushed her hands against his chest. "Does this mean you're not making breakfast?"

Henry laughed. "Eliza, I'm getting the distinct impression your hunger knows no bounds."

"Well, I am hungry. But not for breakfast."

"Really. I'm all about communication; so ... you're gonna have to tell me what you want."

"We're gonna get intimate ..." She threw his words back at him.

"Intimate?! Isn't that what old people say?" He knew well enough to throw words back at her, too.

"I don't know. What **do** you old people say?"

"I am **not** old," Henry harrumphed.

"Well, we'll have to see about that ..." Eliza sized his body, up and down.

"What am I going to do with you?"

"I have a few ideas."

"Do tell."

"About what I can do to you, and what you can do to me." She waggled her eyebrows.

"From the first moment I met you, I never had a chance, did I?"

"Nope. Even if you pretended not to like me at first ..."

"Pretend? When we first met, I didn't like you at all ..."

"Aha, so you **do** admit it." She pointed an accusing finger at him.

"Yes, I do." He grabbed her finger, pulling her into his embrace. "But over time, I broke down your defenses."

"I think you have that ass-backwards, Henry."

"Don't I get any credit at all?"

"None," Eliza replied, teasing him.

"Well, I happen to know for a fact, that you're crazy about me."

Eliza blushed. "What can I say? You worship me."

"I do."

Wrinkling her nose, she made a face. "Ugh, morning breath. Time you brus ..."

"Seriously, after we've already sucked face, you're complaining about my breath now?!"

"Hah, 'suck face'. I gotta admit: your breath is approaching 'Larry' bad."

"No way! There's no way my breath is as bad as his. Is it really? Answer wisely, Miss Dooley ..."

"Of course not, but ..."

"How would you know? Have you kissed Larry?"

"What?! No! Eeeew!"

 _"_ So what's the problem?"

"I kinda prefer kissing my boyfriend whose breath is clean and minty fresh."

He rolled his eyes. "Fine. The lengths I will go for my queen." He kissed her on the cheek. "I'll be right back."

She nodded, and as he moved off the bed and stepped into the bathroom, she smiled, ready to put her plan into action.

A few minutes later, he came out of the bathroom: teeth brushed and throat gargled. He also changed into a gray t-shirt and shorts combination, tossing yesterday's wrinkled clothes into the hamper. What he saw next caused blood to leave his brain and flow down. Way down the pipe ...

Eliza sat at the edge of his bed, her arms propped back in support. She sported a knowing demure expression. A complete contrast to the fact that she was completely naked.

"Why, you sneaky minx. That was merely a diversion."

"It worked, didn't it?" She reached up and grabbed him by the waistband. "Is thaaaat for me?"

"Yes, it is. And I don't even have to get a cat."

"The only pussy you'll ever need is right here."

"Eliza!" He might have been completely scandalized, aside from the single important fact she was turning him waaaay on. All of which Eliza had already anticipated, judging by his swell reaction.

"What? Like I said, I want relaysh sex ..."

"You surprised me, but it's not exactly what I had in mind for today ..."

"You're kidding, right?" She stood, keeping a firm grip of the situation. "I don't see 'little Henry' complaining ..."

"Please stop calling it that."

She laughed, as she cupped him fully in appreciation. "Hmm, maybe I'll have to revise my nickname for ..."

He grabbed hold of her arms. "And when you do, I'm going to feed the cat."

"Feed the cat?"

"Goddammit, Eliza, are you gonna make me say it?" He let go and folded his arms.

"Yes." She grinned, a gleam in her eye.

"I want to give you oral sex ..."

"Nuh-uh. That's not it, Henry."

"I'm going to ravish you ..."

"Try again."

"I'm going muff diving, parting the fuzz, going down for sushi. After that, I will gladly take you straight to pound town ..."

She chuckled at his attempt at "cas" talk. "Okay okay, you can stop! Overall, it's an improvement." She wasn't only referring to his newfound use of sexual vernacular.

"Glad to hear it ..."

"Henry, I promise I'll make this, us, worthwhile."

He knelt on the ground before her, his hands free to stroke and tease. The resulting yelps of surprise and moans of pleasure meant fun-Henry had introduced himself to happy-Eliza.

Eye to eye: from green to brown.

Flowing hair: red on one, black the other.

Lips on the ready: moist to the touch, wet and willing.

Ready to come alive.

 _More, I want more_ , she thought.

Somewhere, deep inside, within one mind, and in the other's heart, a tremendous burst of the feels exploded into light.

* * *

First sensations upon waking can be confusing. Or they can be life-affirming. The nightmares are gone, and the realization hits that sometimes a person's fondest wishes do come true. This time, it's going to be different.

A woman lies in his bed, her arms comfortably around her man. He rests peacefully, his head nestled in the crook of her neck. The feelings are mutual: warm, safe, loved.

"Hey, listen," she says. "It's stopped raining."

"Yeah," he slowly opens an eye, momentarily stunned by swaths of bright in the bedroom. "Sun's out. Looks like it's going to be a beautiful day."

She hasn't much experience waking up next to someone who isn't going to jump out and leave her with ashes. He is her best friend, and she trusts him completely. He doesn't have much experience with someone who's broken through and willingly stayed. She is his best friend, and his heart is in the safety of her hands.

Into the blinding light they stare. Together, at last.


End file.
